


Hazards of Strange and Wondrous Things

by glimmerglanger



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Aliens Made Them Do It, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, But it's the best I can think of, Drugged Sex, Gangbang, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Omega Obi-Wan Kenobi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, feels not quite accurate as a descriptor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:41:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24167524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glimmerglanger/pseuds/glimmerglanger
Summary: Obi-Wan didn’t get a sense that everything would fall apart until they stepped into a large central chamber and the doors they’d entered through shut behind them. He knew, then, that everything was going to go wildly wrong. The hiss of gas in the air a moment later only confirmed the theory. It tasted sharp on his tongue, and he swore to himself, even as he plunged his saber into the closest wall, because they needed to get out right then.He’d been around alphas enough throughout his life to recognize the tang of pheromones on the air.OR, the one with the alien drugs, desperate decisions, and a lot of mess.
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan/Troopers (Mutliple)
Comments: 60
Kudos: 844





	Hazards of Strange and Wondrous Things

**Author's Note:**

> I told myself when I hit a certain milestone on tumblr (https://www.tumblr.com/blog/glimmerglanger), involving the number 212, that I'd write something fun and porn-y to commemorate it, as a way to do something I usually don't do. That turned into 6k+ of pwp (maybe with a LITTLE plot). Uh. Anyway. I hit that milestone today, so here it is.

There were so many strange and wondrous things in the galaxy. Obi-Wan sometimes forgot that, as the war ground them all down into smaller and smaller pieces of themselves. He went days, weeks, months without considering all the curious possibilities to be found amongst the stars.

And then, sometimes, they ran upon something that reminded him.

Discovering a strange space station - obviously built by some forgotten people - in the swirling heart of a nebula, caught his attention. They took some preliminary readings and - with the permission of the Council, secured with his argument that they’d never know if it contained anything useful unless they  _ looked  _ \- decided to check it out, quickly.

Obi-Wan took a shuttle and a small crew. He doubted the expedition would take very long. They could meet up with the rest of the 212th aboard the  _ Negotiator  _ when they finished a preliminary examination. He doubted it would take longer than an hour. Perhaps two.

“We don’t do enough exploring, these days,” he said, when Cody asked him why he was so excited to visit the station, his Commander staring at him with curiosity. “You never know what you’ll find on old wrecks.”

Cody snorted, but flashed him a smile, fond and brief. “Knowing our luck,” Cody said, waving in the rest of the troopers accompanying them, “it’ll probably be trouble, sir.”

Obi-Wan slid into the pilot’s seat, grinning back. “Come now, Commander,” he said, feeling happier than he could remember feeling for some time at the thought of just… going to solve a small mystery, “where’s your sense of adventure?”

Cody shook his head, settling into the co-pilot’s chair. “Not sure I have one, sir,” he said, and Obi-Wan snorted a laugh.

“We’ll have to help you find one,” Obi-Wan said, glancing over his shoulder to add, “we’ll help  _ all  _ of you find one.” And really, he should have known then, when he first felt a swell of happiness and contentment, that everything was going to go sideways, but he didn’t. 

He didn’t when they docked on the station, finding no lifesigns. He didn’t as they moved forward, trying to determine who had made it, and for what purpose. He didn’t get a sense that everything would fall apart at all, not until they stepped into a large central chamber, and the doors they’d entered through shut behind them.

He knew, then, that everything was going to go wildly wrong. The hiss of gas in the air a moment later only confirmed the theory. It tasted sharp on his tongue, and he swore to himself, even as he plunged his saber into the closest wall, because they needed to get out  _ right then _ .

He’d been around alphas enough throughout his life to recognize the tang of pheromones on the air, though they weren’t quite right. He inhaled and the scent was close enough to send a warning frisson of heat down his nerves, a preliminary surge of warmth through his blood. It smelled like want and anger and kriffing alpha aggression, which was… the last thing he needed pumped into a sealed room with six kriffing alphas.

He had an itching feeling there wasn’t going to be enough time to control the situation, even as he ordered, working to stay calm, “Switch your O2 to an internal cycle. Helmets  _ on _ .”

He didn’t have a helmet, which was a problem he’d have to assess later. He drew in a breath and held it, tasting a familiar tang on his tongue and feeling his lungs burn and tingle. It wasn’t  _ unpleasant _ , the tingling. It just felt warm. Like it was heating him up from the inside. It made the world softer and more pleasant. It left him with an ache, low in his gut and between his thighs.

Kriffing pheromones, mixed with something else, something he didn’t recognize that was making the world go blurry and out of focus, way too fast. He felt his heart beating faster and bit back on the curses lining up on his tongue.

Six alphas in a sealed room, he thought. And one of him. The unlucky one out. A kriffing omega, standing in the middle of a storm of pheromones and ancient drugs and who  _ knew  _ what they were going to do. Nothing pleasant, he was willing to bet.Obi-Wan shook the thoughts away. They weren’t helpful. If he moved quickly enough, there’d be time--

A scuffle broke out behind him within moments, sudden sharp words ringing out, the taste of aggression and anger in the air spiking higher. And he was making no forward progress with the saber. Whatever material the room had been constructed from, it had been designed to withstand such an assault, which seemed… wildly unfair.

Obi-Wan was dizzy-headed by the time he turned, lightsaber falling from his fingers as he stopped concentrating on it. Two of the troopers - Fuelline and Rivel - were throwing punches at one another, tearing at armor, scrambling to  _ hurt _ , kriffing hell.

Obi-Wan glanced up at the ceiling as Cody waded in to pull his brothers apart, snarling at them. Obi-Wan thought about vents and clearing out the air. It was difficult even to see the ceiling. Almost impossible, through the haze of purplish gas, full of altered chemicals, unnatural and sour. It sank down through the air and into their heads.

Determining the contents of the gas was purely academic. Something that he didn’t have time to consider when more of the troopers started snarling, aggression in every line of their shoulders and backs. He’d brought six men, they’d been… he couldn’t remember, exactly, what they’d come to this place to do, not through the haze descending on his mind, getting thicker when he had to breathe out, breathe in, swallowing more of the poison.

It was impossible to know the exact concentration of the drug being poured down around them. Impossible to know exactly what it was doing to the chemical switches in their brains. But, on a practical level, it was pretty kriffing obvious it was going to make his men tear each other apart.

Obi-Wan blinked, shaking his head to clear it. This felt like one of the logic problems posed by Master Yoda, back when Obi-Wan had been a youngling. Six alphas in a room, you have. Affected by a toxin, they are. Stop them from killing one another, how do you?

He felt dizzy. Hot under his skin. Six alphas, he thought, smelling blood on the air, and one of him, not unaffected by the chemical tang to the air, but… very much not affected as they were. He didn’t want to fight any of them. That wasn’t what he blood sang to do.

Six alphas, who were going to tear one another to shreds. And he needed a solution to stop them. He blinked hazily down at himself, stretching his fingers in and out, feeling only half-connected to his body. He needed a solution.

The realization that he  _ was  _ the solution swam up through his dizzy thoughts, presenting itself for his consideration, and he shivered. There was enough of the rational portion of his mind left to consider that it might not work. That even if it  _ did  _ work, it might… be more than he’d be able to make it through. 

There were, after all, six of them, and only one of him.

The math made it easier, took the decision out of his hands. There were six of them, and only one of him, and if he could ensure their well-being, well, then. There was no other option on the table that he could take. 

Of course he would save them, if it were at all possible.

How could he not?

He ignored the sounds of violence, closing his eyes and carefully releasing the hold on his emotions and reactions that he’d been maintaining with terrible focus. He could feel the way the air changed, the taste of it altering as his blood grew hotter, too fast. Whatever they’d fed into the room was impacting him, too, enough that his knees went weak, all at once, heat blossoming low in his gut.

“Commander,” he managed, his voice a rasp that felt unfamiliar, “could I have your attention, if you don’t--”

He got Cody’s attention, immediately. Probably he would have had it without asking. There were hands on him, keeping him from sinking to the ground. He gripped at white armor without thought, wishing, absently, it was skin that he touched, gasping when Cody pushed him against the wall. Cody made a low, questioning sound. 

Obi-Wan had gotten  _ all  _ of their attention, he noted, from somewhere far away, watching them rise, approaching with dark intent in their eyes and expressions.

Cody pressed a hand against the center of Obi-Wan’s chest and turned his head, snapping, “Stop.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said, hearing the breathiness of his own tone, too far gone to mind it, “you’ll have to take turns, I’m afraid.”

His voice dragged Cody’s attention back. He stared into familiar eyes, feeling the spreading ache through his body, attention fixated on Cody’s hand against his chest, holding him in place neatly. Cody breathed deeply, eyes falling half-closed. It was a surprise when he managed the willpower to ask, voice low and rough, “General. You sure?”

Obi-Wan half-laughed, couldn’t not, feeling a smile flit across his mouth. He wasn’t sure, but when was he  _ ever  _ sure in a fight? There were only the choices before him, and this one was the only one he could accept. Let them have him, if it kept them from killing one another. It was a choice he didn’t even have to think about.

But he was no longer sure he had the control to explain that, any of that. Instead he managed to slide a hand up Cody’s armor, over his shoulder, to his neck, tugging, just a little. It didn’t take much encouragement. Cody leaned forward, a hungry noise in his throat, and then his mouth was on Obi-Wan’s and, oh--

The kiss seared through his bones. It filled up the whole world, the press of Cody’s mouth, the slide of his tongue, the sharp edges of teeth. Cody did not kiss him carefully, did not hold back or go slowly. He kissed like a man desperate to do nothing else for as long as he lived. He kissed like he was starving for it, and the air in Obi-Wan’s lungs felt overheated when he finally shifted away.

He didn’t go far. He wouldn’t, Obi-Wan knew. Not with so many others close, crowded around them.  _ Waiting _ .

Obi-Wan listened to the clatter of armor to the ground, his clumsy hands working at latches and clasps. Vambraces fell. A pauldron. The chest piece. It took what meagre amount of his concentration he still had left, but it needed done. Cody seemed far more concerned with pulling off  _ his  _ robes, shoving and pushing them aside to get to the skin beneath. 

Obi-Wan had a fairly good idea what was going to happen once Cody proved successful. He’d rather most of Cody’s armor be  _ off  _ by the time they got that far. Otherwise, the experience was likely to be unpleasant, and--

And Obi-Wan gasped, losing what remained of his train of thought as Cody mouthed down his neck, sucking at the skin, yanking Obi-Wan’s undertunic down his arms. Obi-Wan felt other hands reaching out, trying to pull the fabric aside, and Cody paused, a warning rumble in his chest.

They were still adhering to the chain of command, Obi-Wan thought, briefly. Now that he’d given them a goal, a purpose, a method to channel the heat in their blood, they’d managed to retain some of that iron control he’d gotten so used to. The others were just  _ watching _ , eyes hungry as Cody reached for Obi-Wan’s belt, hands ungentle when he pulled it open.

“General,” he said, panting like a bellows, hands flexing against Obi-Wan’s hips, pressed against him so close that Obi-Wan could feel every inch of him. “Can I…?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan managed, surprised Cody had the wherewithal to ask, and then--oh--

Oh, he’d expected, vaguely, to be borne to the floor, to have his cheek pressed against the cool metal, hands on his hips and a sharp press in. Cody grunted, instead, lifting him with a casual display of strength that ratcheted Obi-Wan’s temperature impossibly hotter, fingers - still gloved - digging into his thigh, and--

And the press of his cock into Obi-Wan’s body was still too much, too fast, even with Obi-Wan dizzy and shaky, his body doing everything it could to ease the way. He felt slick down his thighs and still he cried out, head snapping back against the wall, the impact a sharp pain barely felt.

There was no easy caution to the movement. They’d moved beyond that point. He hadn’t expected different, hadn’t expected anything but the implacable press  _ in _ , Cody panting against his throat as he bottomed out, leaving Obi-Wan feeling split open, scrambling at Cody’s shoulders, fingers catching in his blacks, trying to find some kind of balance and failing.

There was nothing but the wall at his back and Cody pressed all against him,  _ inside  _ of him, not waiting, not offering any chance for Obi-Wan to adjust before he was moving. Obi-Wan scrambled against him, some reflex to get some space or to get closer, all tangled together. He couldn’t go  _ anywhere _ , in any case, pinned as Cody’s teeth slid over his neck, the feel of his skin and his body filling up the entire world and--

And Cody was, apparently, far enough gone that he did not make a sound of protest when one of the others reached out. A hand slid across Obi-Wan’s side, moving over sweat-slick skin. He cried out, punchy and shocked, when fingers curled around his cock, hard and thus far ignored, and he knew it wasn’t Cody, because Cody was holding his hip, keeping him in position, Cody’s other hand was braced by his shoulder.

Other fingers twisted into his hair, sudden, unexpected, pulling his head to the side, barring his neck to Cody’s attentions, and he abruptly had no idea how many people were touching him. It barely seemed to matter. His skin was thrumming on the inside, his heart racing, his bones all turning to liquid heat.

Cody hitched him higher up the wall, shoved in as the fingers on his cock sped up, and Obi-Wan cried out, the sound torn from his throat. Pleasure ran hot down his spine, spreading with each shift of Cody’s hips, with each touch of skin on skin.

They weren’t going slowly, there was no teasing to the touches, nothing but raw hunger needing to be sated. Another hand curled around his cock, and Obi-Wan choked, thrown over the edge all at once, listening to thick, pleased sounds echo around him as he came, more sensitive all at once and  _ none of them stopped touching him _ .

They weren’t going to, he realized, hazy and slow. There were six of them and they weren’t going to, even as he gasped, clinging to Cody’s shoulders as he sped up, a growl building in his throat, and - oh - Obi-Wan felt the swelling girth of him. The knot, catching at the edges of his body, and it had been so long, since he’d--

He’d almost forgotten what it felt like when an alpha shoved in that final time, the knot swelling and locking them together, the feel of it all-encompassing, satisfying to all the parts of him awoken by the gas pumped into the room. It was  _ good  _ and  _ right _ to have Cody in him like this, it left him feeling drunk, boneless, and relaxed.

He knew, when capable of logical thought, that it was only a biological side effect. That the blissful thrum through his body was at least partially to make him more pliable. And he was so pliable, boneless as Cody sank slowly to his knees and then the rest of the way to his ass, Obi-Wan held close the entire way.

Obi-Wan slumped against him, breathing shakily, feeling it each time he so much as shifted. There were hands in his hair, stroking over his shoulders and down his back, reminding him that this was only a brief respite. They were, he realized, with a little shudder, only waiting for Cody’s knot to go down enough to - to slide him off.

He clenched his hands into Cody’s blacks, just for a moment, just long enough to shiver and gather himself for what had to come next. It was strange to feel, even in the midst of what promised to be a very… challenging solution, a measure of comfort in Cody’s palm across the back of his neck. He pressed his face against Cody’s shoulder, feeling Cody’s arms around his back, holding him close for the moment.

Obi-Wan had not been knotted often. Once, in the past. He’d been dizzy and out of his mind after that first time. The constant touches kept him from drifting fully. He remained aware, feeling it as the knot began to go down.

He resisted the urge to clench tighter to Cody, as it did. There was tension, building in the air around them. He’d started down this path for a reason; inconvenient hormones that made him want to do nothing more than relax and sprawl out now had no say in what was going to happen to him.

Besides, the continued array of chemicals in the air left him feeling tingly and warm, running too hot. He had made the best decision possible, and it  _ remained  _ the only way he could think to get them all out of this.

He shifted - there were hands on his shoulders, on his arms, helping him up - and Cody tightened  _ his  _ grip for just a moment. Cody made a little sound in the back of his throat, harsh and low, and Obi-Wan felt it in his gut. He murmured, “It’s alright, Commander. You have to let me go. Get - get the door open.”

Cody lifted his head, his eyes dark and deep, mouth set and stubborn, and for a moment Obi-Wan wondered if it were all going to end in blood, anyway. If Cody would try to fight them all. But Cody must have been thinking more clearly - it must have worked, at least a little, Obi-Wan’s mad plan - because he jerked out a nod, and released his hold.

“Hey!” he snapped, a second later, as Obi-Wan’s cheek hit the ground, his chest pressed flat as his hips were hauled  _ up _ . “Easy!”

“Sorry,” a voice rasped - Wells, Obi-Wan knew what he felt like through the Force - and he sounded apologetic and wrecked, all at the same time. “Sorry, General, I--”

“It’s alright,” Obi-Wan managed, hands on the ground, thinking of pushing up onto his elbows, but there was a hand in the middle of his shoulders, as though anticipating the movement, holding him down as a growl cut through the air.

He went still, limp, heart beating at his ribs as hands tightened on his hips and he felt terribly tender, already, feeling pressure nudge against him and - and he gasped at the slide in, twitching all over, too sensitive to do this again but--

But what choice did he have? He swallowed, convulsively, reaching out for the Force. Fuelline took one of his hands, threading their fingers together, and he clung, breath punched out of him with each thrust, trembling as other hands ran over his sides, slid around to his stomach.

He made a sound - harsh and desperate - when fingers curled around his cock again, smearing through the mess already on his stomach and thighs first, their touch slick and smooth. They were still touching him, when Wells’ knot swelled, catching at all his tender edges, locking them together.

Obi-Wan panted for breath, whining in his throat, because there were still so many hands, still so many people touching him, bringing him closer and closer to another edge that he wasn’t sure he was ready to fall over. He thought, vaguely and fleetingly, about trying to pace oneself but that was a lost cause in his current situation.

Not with someone shoving at Wells, getting the hand off of the middle of his back. Hands on his shoulders were pulling him upwards, shifting the pressure of the knot inside him, and he cried out, the sound swallowed by the mouth covering his. The kiss was fierce and hungry. He gripped at shoulders - bare, now, they’d gotten the hang of this - and worked to withstand the onslaught of it, the fingers clenched in his hair, the other kisses pressed to his shoulders, the back of his neck, his side. 

Obi-Wan lost track, in that moment, of who was touching him, or even  _ how many  _ people were touching him. He was fully inside his skin, drowning in touch. Someone was rutted against his hip, and there were so many of them, he wasn’t - wasn’t doing enough, was he? It was just so hard to concentrate.

He slid a hand down, over skin, finding overheated flesh, closing his fingers around the evidence of just what he’d gotten himself into. What he’d gotten into  _ himself _ , he thought, half-laughing, dazed and feeling drunk.

He stroked, fingers clumsy, swallowing the pleased groan Fuelline murmured against his mouth. Someone else took his other hand, and he didn’t fight them, touching as much as he could, letting them push him back against Wells’ chest. Wells wrapped arms around him, holding him in place - as though the knot let him go  _ anywhere _ , as he touched and was touched and--

And it was a surprise when Fuelline stood, tearing his mouth away from Obi-Wan’s, and Obi-Wan did not understand, at first, what he was doing with he stepped closer, his hand in Obi-Wan’s hair tightening, and, oh--

Oh. Obi-Wan’s eyes fluttered shut as his face was tilted just so. His mouth was already open, his lips already wet. He licked over his bottom lip, anyway, reflex in the instant before Fuelline shifted closer, sliding his cock  _ in _ .

He tasted of skin and sweat, of heady alpha want. Obi-Wan sucked and swallowed, but this wasn’t - wasn’t the time for him to guide things along. This was Fuelline pushing so Obi-Wan’s head rested against Wells’ shoulder, while Fuelline fucked his mouth in short, sharp thrusts, his expression almost stunned, below the hunger.

Obi-Wan choked, briefly, on a harder thrust, and someone - Cody - grabbed Fuelline, shoving him to the side with a snapped, “Watch it!”

“Sorry,” Fuelline said, looking to the side, and he did appear contrite, as contrite any alpha could look sporting half-a-knot, swollen just from being in Obi-Wan’s mouth. He was distracted from his gaze when Wells made a regretful sound and shifted, sliding free of Obi-Wan’s body in a movement that left Obi-Wan gasping - too fast.

Fuelline moved towards him, hunger all over his expression, and Cody shoved him back again, snapping, “You’ll wait. Wells. You help me,” and some part of Obi-Wan wanted to laugh - what did it  _ matteri _ ? - but there were other hands pulling at him, drawing him close, fingers pressing into him for just a moment and, before he could adjust to  _ that,  _ they were gone again, replaced by hot flesh and the world went distant, overwhelmed by his singing, burning nerves.

He knew little but touches on his over-sensitive skin, kissing against his throat, the slide of flesh over his lips, into his mouth, fingers clenching at his shoulders, his hips, his arms. They moved him as they saw fit, occasional snaps of angry words echoing through his thoughts when someone went too far, overstepped some line Obi-Wan couldn’t keep track of, orders to do this or that, over far away.

He gasped for air, like a man perpetually on the edge of drowning, holding tight to hands, shoulders, arms whenever he could, scrambling sometimes at the cold floor, gripping sometimes at nothing, when hands closed on his wrists and squeezed, pinning him down.

He pulled on the Force, tethering himself to the expanse of the living breath of the troopers around him, when the touches went past too much, when it should have been more than he could bear. He blinked away stinging sweat, felt hot breath panting against his throat, straddling Vax’s lap, strong hands coaxing him to rise and fall though he felt no strength in his shaking thighs.

He cried out, distantly, when he was pushed forward, against Vax’s chest. It trapped his cock - impossibly hard once more though he did not see how he could possibly come again - between their bodies. He pressed his face against sweat-slick skin, not sure for what reason he was getting a respite; Vax’s knot had not swollen, he was not--

A hand pressed against his lower back, firmly. Other fingers slipped lower, over his slick skin. He was  _ covered  _ with - with more fluids than he felt strictly comfortable considering. He made a sound, strangled, when two fingers pushed  _ into  _ him, alongside Vax’s cock, and he made to jerk away but there was nowhere to  _ go _ . 

Somewhere above him, Cody snapped, “What the kriff do you think you’re doing?”

And Obi-Wan almost let out a relieved sob, but had to swallow it back, had to blink his eyes clear. Because the air was getting thicker. He wasn’t moving fast enough, couldn’t help them all, not at this rate. They were getting rougher with each other. With him.

Something had to be done. “S’alright,” he managed, his voice some unfamiliar, ragged thing. He tipped his head back, trying to spot Cody, and felt… wobbly. Cody slid a hand behind his head, steadying him, eyes dark and concerned and full, still - or again - of heat. It was the first time Obi-Wan had realized, really, that they were… still affected.

He should have recognized that sooner, he thought, bleary. The number of people touching him hadn’t really seemed to  _ lessen _ , after all. But that was a problem for  _ another  _ time, for minutes or hours from now. He had to keep them safe in the present moment, before he could worry about what keeping them safe in the future would cost.

He swallowed - his throat  _ ached  _ \- and said, “Let them.”

“General,” Cody said, even as he was leaning closer, even as he was brushing a kiss against Obi-Wan’s cheek, his mouth. “Not sure that’s--”

“Call me Obi-Wan,” he managed to force out. Being called General felt, in the moment, deeply amusing. “And it’s--alright. Do want needs done,” he panted, and felt Cody nod. Cody’s hand remained on his skin, over the back of his neck, protective, as he was pushed forward again, as another finger pushed inside him and, oh--

His spine lit up, when more hands fitted against his hips, when Rivel behind him pulled out his fingers and slid forward, his cock  _ stretching  _ the skin and even with - with all the mess over Obi-Wan’s skin, even with the preparation, even with  _ everything _ , he cried out and would have lurched away.

Hands gripped at him, arms wrapped around him, mouths caught against his skin, and he stayed where he was, sounds torn from his throat with every movement, all measures of his control stripped away, finally.

He could only sip at the air, feeling too full to even breath, his heart beating against his skin.

He was vaguely aware of keening at the continual sliding pressure on all the over-sensitive nerves beneath his skin. He was vaguely aware of someone holding his hand, murmuring soft words against his ear, and he could surely not find release again, there was nothing left in him  _ to release _ , but the stimulation did not stop and it did not stop and it did not--

His vision tinged white around the edges, when his muscles contracted, when his body tried to clench down, and the orgasm was all sharp edges. It left him more sensitive, impossibly, even as he felt two knots swelling and had a moment’s tight panic - he hadn’t thought this  _ through  _ \- and someone, bless them, pulled Vax back, snarling when he made a sharp sound of protest.

Obi-Wan slumped back against Rivel, who held him tightly, greedily, both arms around Obi-Wan’s chest. He watched, vision wobbling and unclear, as Vax put a hand on his shoulder, other hand moving down by his hips, with sharp, almost violent strokes, his knot swollen as he cried out.

And it wasn’t like he made the mess across Obi-Wan’s skin  _ worse  _ in any measurable sense, but the feel of it was strange, jarring. No one had ever--

Vax collapsed against him, panting against his throat, fingers smearing through the mess he’d made, gathering it, dragging it back and -- and Obi-Wan jerked when he pushed his fingers  _ in _ , coated with come, along the side of the knot, and it was - it was too much - his legs jerked and there were hands, stroking down his thighs, gentling him.

Obi-Wan almost sobbed, when someone grabbed Vax and shoved him to one side, even if Icam was only stepping into Vax’s place, a hand in Obi-Wan’s damp hair, moving him, and he opened his mouth without thought at the nudge against his lips.

It felt easy to fall down into his head, drifting not-quite on the Force, gasping for breath when possible, touching and being touched. And it was strange, a bit, how quiet his head had grown. He barely recalled what it was like to have his thoughts still and quiet, but they were, and that was, perhaps, something to be considered  _ later _ .

He had no ability to consider it at that moment, not as Rivel’s knot went down and more hands touched him, guided him, pulled him around. He flowed with the touches, lost in them, unsure even how much time had passed until his shoulders settled against the ground, the cool metal startling him.

Someone kissed him, fierce and deep - Cody, he realized, after a beat - and it was Cody kneeling between his legs. “Commander,” he panted, vaguely aware that - unless Cody had cut in unfairly - they appeared to be heading for a second round. He wasn’t sure if he’d make it through. 

“Call me Cody,” he panted, a hand on Obi-Wan’s hips, tilting them, nudging forwards and  _ oh _ . Obi-Wan gripped at his arms with fingers that barely seemed to work. 

“Cody,” and his voice was a wrecked whine, a gasp. “I - I’m not--”

Other hands reached out, stroking at his hair, and Cody shifted, a harsh noise in his throat. He curled an arm up, around Obi-Wan’s head, body curled like a barrier over him and it was the first time in - in too long that there’d been only one person touching him. “I know,” Cody said, voice gentler, hips moving  _ slow _ and that was a different kind of torture, each movement giving Obi-Wan the chance to  _ anticipate _ . “We’re almost through.”

Obi-Wan didn’t know what they were almost through. Everything had fallen out of his head but turning his face against Cody’s arm, feeling wrung out, cored and filled over and over and over again, and--

“Sh, sh,” Cody murmured, bending closer, folding Obi-Wan near in half, but he had no resistance left in him, if ever he had. Soft lips brushed his cheeks, and he pulled his arms in, between their bodies, gasping when Cody swelled within him and--

And he’d gotten used to the feeling, to the endorphin rush that hit every time, even still. His body clenched and for a moment he felt at peace with everything in the universe, even full of aches and shivering.

There was restless movement around them. Obi-Wan picked at Cody’s blacks, trying to settle himself, to prepare for what must follow. Cody pushed his forehead against Obi-Wan’s, and said, quietly, “You can’t keep this up.”

“Have to,” Obi-Wan slurred; besides, those were only the words of a knotted alpha. He  _ would  _ say that. 

“No,” Cody said, stroking his shoulder, a comfort, shifting, and Obi-Wan tightened his grip. But there was no more strength in him. He’d had all his reserves depleted, been put through the wringer and come out the other side with trembles under his skin.

“Cody,” he rasped, because he would not be the reason everything went wrong. He’d been through so much worse than keeping his men safe. He could--

Cody wasn’t looking at him, turning to scowl at the men around them, and Obi-Wan had not have gone this far just to see them fall on one another, he hadn’t, he should have  _ known  _ they’d start getting possessive, he should have--

A sudden cheer from the other side of the room made him flinch, as did a sudden rush of cool, sweet air. “We’ve got it, Commander!” Wells yelled, and Obi-Wan didn’t know what they’d gotten, didn’t really  _ care _ , as Cody slid from his body, leaving him to jerk and cry out.

There were other voices, other exclamations; he missed some, he was sure. He flinched when hands reached for him again, resolved to do what was necessary, even as his robe was wrapped around his body and he was lifted, held against Cody’s chest. “What…?” he managed to ask, blinking at the change of position.

“We’re getting out of here,” Cody said, sounding sure and calm and that was all Obi-Wan needed, at the moment. “Rest, Obi-Wan. It’s alright now.”

#

The cooler air of the transport shuttle felt like ice against Obi-Wan’s skin. He vaguely remembered curling closer to the warmth of Cody’s body. He thought he should probably protest being carried, but he didn’t think his legs were in proper functioning order, at the moment. He’d rather not collapse, so he just rested his head on Cody’s shoulder and drifted in and out.

He blinked and they were in the halls of the strange base. He blinked again and they were on their transport. He blinked again and he was on his bunk, curled on his side. He stared across at the wall, for a moment, and then shifted, groaning when a hundred spots around his body protested all at once.

“Don’t move, sir,” Cody said. They were back to ranks, apparently. Obi-Wan shifted anyway, not listening, half-expecting the rest of his team to be in the room. But it was just the two of them. Just Cody, still wearing his blacks, walking over from the fresher with a bowl of water and a towel over his arm.

“What’s going on?” Obi-Wan asked, his voice still something he barely recognized. Shredded.

“We made it back to the ship. Everyone is… better,” Cody said. “I’ve got the men getting us underway, back to the  _ Negotiator  _ at top speed.” He reached out, carefully lifting Obi-Wan’s robe.

Obi-Wan shivered in the cool air. “What’re you doing?”

“Getting you cleaned up, sir,” Cody said, calm and even, dipping the towel in the water, wringing it out.

“Ah.” Obi-Wan blinked, hazily. “I can do that.” He would be able to do that  _ eventually _ . Cody ignored him, making a soft little noise of disagreement. He leaned over, fingers on Obi-Wan’s jaw, tilting his face and gently wiping off his skin.

It took Obi-Wan too long to register the expression on Cody’s face, the way his eyes glinted in the dim light, the way his mouth pressed thin. “Cody?” he rasped - apparently  _ he  _ had not made it back to ranks - and reached out, managing to touch his arm on the second try. “What’s wrong?”

Cody made a sound, gutted, looking to the side, freezing with the rag on Obi-Wan’s stomach. He was going to need to empty the water soon, by the state of Obi-Wan’s skin. He said, “What’s-- Obi-Wan. We were--” he gestured, jerkily, out to the side. “--we hurt you, we--”

“We all did what we needed to do,” Obi-Wan said, gently. “To make sure everyone survived.”

Cody swallowed, loudly enough that Obi-Wan heard it. His head bowed over. “We should have been able to - to resist it, to--”

Obi-Wan pushed to sitting, regretted it at all the aches, and worked to keep that regret off of his expression. He managed to reach a hand out, gripping Cody’s shoulder in what he hoped came across as comfort and not simply an attempt to remain steady. “You cannot be expected to overcome a toxin through sheer force of will, Cody. It’s alright.” He managed a smile. “I can finish this, why don’t you...”

“You can’t,” Cody interrupted, shaking his head. “Lie back, come on.” He froze, then, glancing at Obi-Wan and then away. “Unless you’d rather I not--” He jerked his hand off of Obi-Wan’s stomach, low, where he’d left it rest, fingers spreading out so that he was barely holding the rag.

And Obi-Wan had regained enough focus to read the guilt on his expression, tinging over into something more like horror with each heartbeat. Obi-Wan squeezed his shoulder, and gingerly lowered himself back down. “I trust you,” he said, slumped against the mattress. “And I suppose you’re right. I can barely move.”

Something in Cody eased. He nodded, and said, “Alright. I’m…” He shook his head, and worked quietly for a long moment, cleaning off Obi-Wan’s skin with careful movements. Obi-Wan watched his expression, saw him flinch and wince at the marks, swallowing down the urge to turn his hips away, to pull a blanket over.

There was nothing there Cody hadn’t seen. Nothing he hadn’t touched. Shame seemed, at that point, utterly pointless.

But he couldn’t help but make a little sound when Cody put a hand on his hip, rolled him a little, to clean the mess off of his back. He felt Cody’s hand tighten on his hip, felt him stiffen. Heard him pant, “Kriffing hell, General, I--”

“Obi-Wan,” he corrected, gently, because he did not feel much like a General or a Jedi Master at that moment.

“Obi-Wan,” Cody choked on his name. “I--”

“It’s alright,” Obi-Wan said, reaching up, covering Cody’s hand on his hip. “I made the decision, I do not hold any of you responsible. I know none of you wanted--”

“You don’t understand,” Cody blurted, interrupting Obi-Wan’s interruption. “I did--.” He sounded wretched. “I--”

Obi-Wan blinked, puzzled. He rolled back, enough to see Cody’s face. “What?”

Cody’s mouth worked for a moment, and then he shook his head, leaning over. He put a hand by Obi-Wan’s shoulder; their noses bumped. Obi-Wan had time to suck in a little breath, before Cody brushed a kiss to his mouth, feather-soft. He pulled back after but a second.

His other hand was resting over Obi-Wan’s stomach, without any weight put on it. Obi-Wan blinked up at him, stunned all over again. He managed to repeat, weakly, “What?”

“I thought I’d tell you someday,” Cody said, looking away, mouth thin and unhappy. “After the war. Find out if you… thought you might be able to feel the same way.”

Obi-Wan floundered, mind gone to white-noise. He managed, after a moment, weakly, “Cody. That’s… I don’t know what to say.”

Cody closed his eyes, jerked out a rough nod. “You don’t have to say anything.” He stood, slowly, frown deepening. His hand he lifted last, fingers clenching into a fist as he pulled away. “You should rest. After-- You should rest.”

And Obi-Wan meant to say something else, call him back, sort everything out. But he was exhausted, beyond exhausted. And he could not find the words to say, in any case. He watched Cody slip through the door with his heart banging against his ribs, and slumped back to the mattress. He stared at the ceiling for a long moment, before curling onto his side.

He needed to get up. He needed to sort things out. He needed…

He fell asleep between the thoughts of one responsibility and the next. It could all, he supposed, wait until the morning.


End file.
